Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - V. Purgatory
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mourir arouses in me the wish to quit the world.
In order to learn to know the boundary between
life and death, I lie on the bed, uncork the flask
containing cyanide of potassium, and let its
poisonous perfume stream out. The man with
the scythe approaches softly and voluptuously,
but at the last moment someone enters or something
else happens; either an attendant enters
under some pretext, or a wasp flies in through
the window.
The powers deny me the only joy left, and I
bow to their will.
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